Christmas Eve, Yr A (2025) The Rev. Karen C. Barfield
Christmas Eve, Yr A (2025) The Rev. Karen C. Barfield
Isaiah 9:2-7 St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church
Psalm 96
Luke 2:1-20
In the name of the one, holy, and loving God:
who was, and is, and is to come! Amen.
This evening, we gather together to celebrate something spectacular…
something that seems a bit far-fetched if applying only our rational minds…
yet something we proclaim every time we gather for worship.
This evening, we gather to celebrate that heaven and earth have joined together…
that divine and human have united…
that God has been enfleshed in a human body!
How wild is that?
And…
not only has God become human,
but the one, holy, and loving God decided to show up as a baby.
A vulnerable baby…
dependent upon other humans for everything.
I don’t title sermons,
but if I were to title this one,
it would be: “Courageous vulnerability.”
All throughout our scriptures,
we hear story after story about courageous vulnerability.
Mostly the stories involve the courageous vulnerability of humans when God calls them.
Whether it is to leave one’s homeland to head, literally, only God-knows-where…
or to lead God’s people while struggling with a stutter…
or to depend on God’s generosity to provide food every day
without tucking some in your pockets just in case…
or to face a towering warrior with only a slingshot and some rocks…
or… to have an angel show up and tell you that you’ve been chosen to bear God’s Son!
BIG GULP!
Say what?
Ummmm….how is that to be?
God’s Spirit!
God’s Spirit does miraculous,
life-giving,
courage-filling,
and merciful mind-blowing things!
…if we are ready
…and willing.
Mary knew when the angel first arrived with his invitation from God
that she was vulnerable to misunderstanding, finger-pointing, shame,
and maybe even death.
What God was asking of her was no small thing.
And yet,
in some Spirit-filled way,
she was able to say “Yes.”
Then, almost at the end of her nine months of pregnancy,
the edict arrives at the most inopportune time
that she and Joseph must travel to Bethlehem, away from their home.
I do hope that perhaps on the journey she was able to ride on a donkey,
although at nine months pregnant,
walking might have been preferable to the jostling of an animal!
What vulnerability there is, at nine months pregnant,
to leave your home and travel to another town
without even the possibility of calling ahead for reservations.
And…lo and behold,
they arrive in Bethlehem along with loads of other folks also looking for lodging
such that none is left.
They take the only spot available…
a cave that houses someone’s animals.
Aside from issues of sanitation,
it’s probably not the best choice for birthing a child.
And certainly not a location that has clean blankets and cute little hats
for the young-un when he arrives.
I wonder if she asked Joseph to take off his tunic
and tear it into strips of cloth
so that she could wrap Jesus up and keep him warm and dry.
In this gospel story we hear tonight…
as in so many of our stories in Holy Scripture…
we hear of courageous vulnerability.
Mary and Joseph have certainly been courageous in their many places of vulnerability,
but it also strikes me that God enters into a life of courageous vulnerability as well.
God and us…
we are all in the same boat,
or cave,
or house,
or world.
We all depend upon each other for sustenance,
for healing and restoration,
for the abundance of Life!
God chose to enter this world,
beginning as a little zygote,
developing into a baby,
and delivered into this world
utterly dependent upon us humans!
Talk about courageous vulnerability!
What was God thinking?
What was God doing?
God was joining heaven and earth,
divine and human,
entering into our own lives to share our humanity…
to reconcile us to God, to each other, and to the whole of creation.
God became human…
God became flesh…
to join us in our humanity,
to join us in our vulnerability.
That was pretty risky!
God trusted a young girl to embody and care for God.
And she did!
God was fed by this young woman
so that one day God would feed us with God’s own flesh and blood.
The Good News that we celebrate tonight
is that God has become flesh and dwelt among us.
God still dwells among us,
whoever we are and wherever we are…
in the midst of our fear, bewilderment, anxiety, pain, and sorrow,
as well as in the midst of our hope, joy, and celebration.
God stepped into courageous vulnerability to show God’s deep and abiding love for us.
God offers us the same invitation to step into courageous vulnerability
as we extend God’s love to others and to the whole of creation.
God offers us the invitation to partner with God
in bringing about God’s Kindom of justice, mercy, forgiveness, and love.
Are we willing to love our neighbors as ourselves?
What might that look like?
Sometimes it may at first appear as forlorn as new birth in a barn…
or confusion out in the fields.
We are called to watch and listen
and be ready for the invitation to new life,
even in the midst of chaos and fear.
My friends, God has come and dwelt among us.
God loves us.
God is with us.
And God will never leave us. Amen.
